Capítulo 235: Stubborn Resolve
The atmosphere in the Inside the League studio grew increasingly tense—it was clear to everyone: Blair Butt had declared war on Lance.
No one knew exactly why, but the professionals in the room recognized that this game was far from over. Whatever opinions were flying around now would need to reckon with the outcome of the second half.
If the Kansas City Chiefs lost, Butt's smug declarations would stand unchallenged. But if they won?
Josh Lawson and the others decided to sit back and enjoy the show. Butt had refused the olive branch earlier, so no one felt compelled to rescue him from his potential downfall. Instead, they opted to spectate, letting the tension simmer and boil over in real-time.
As Butt finally ran out of steam, other analysts chimed in with their observations.
One consensus emerged: Both the Chiefs and the Eagles had underperformed offensively in the first half. While both defenses had excelled, the offenses had failed to meet expectations.
Adjustments on offense during halftime would be the key to the second half.
The Philadelphia Eagles, receiving the ball first, wasted no time asserting themselves.
Second-year quarterback Carson Wentz found his rhythm on a nine-play drive, culminating in a 25-yard touchdown pass to newly acquired wide receiver Alshon Jeffery.
It was the duo's first touchdown connection, and it electrified the visiting Eagles fans at Arrowhead Stadium.
The crowd fell into a tense hush, their unease growing with each passing second. It was never a good sign to let the opposition strike first on your home turf.
Meanwhile, Butt leaned back in his chair, visibly pleased.
"See? Didn't I call it?"
The Eagles had seized momentum, delivering the game's first touchdown. The Chiefs were now staring down a steep uphill battle.
10–6—Kansas City trailed at home.
Butt, radiating smug satisfaction, imagined himself holding a frosty beer, basking in vindication. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had predicted.
Then, the Chiefs' offense took the field.
Alex Smith trotted out with Lance beside him, mirroring their first-half lineup. Despite a disappointing start to the game, Andy Reid had not made any significant personnel adjustments during halftime.
Butt shook his head in disbelief.
"Is Reid out of his mind? He's doubling down on a strategy that's clearly not working. Is this stubbornness or desperation?"
The Chiefs' loyal fans tried to rally, chanting "Attack! Attack!" to lift the energy inside Arrowhead Stadium. But the tepid first half had sapped their enthusiasm, and the crowd's cheers lacked their usual fervor.
A sense of unease loomed, but the noise faded as Smith prepared to take the snap.
"Attack!"
Smith wasted no time, handing the ball off to Lance immediately after the snap. Backpedaling swiftly, Smith cleared space, opening up a path for Lance.
All eyes were on the rookie running back again.
Lance darted to the right, angling toward the sideline with a sharp 45-degree trajectory. In just a few strides, his speed began to shine. His intentions were clear: an edge rush to exploit any gaps in the slot—an area between the tackle and the tight end.
The Eagles' defense, however, had been a brick wall all game.
The slot, which often provides opportunities for running backs and wide receivers to break free, had been a no-go zone for the Chiefs all game. Philadelphia's defensive scheme, anchored by their strong front seven, had suffocated Kansas City's ground game in the first half.
Yet Lance didn't flinch.
With a quick glance, Lance spotted trouble.
Defensive end Derek Barnett was hot on his heels.
As a fellow rookie—selected 14th overall in this year's draft—Barnett had plenty to prove.
Not only was Barnett out to establish himself as one of the league's premier young defenders, but he also carried a personal vendetta. Last year, during a college rivalry game, Barnett's Tennessee Volunteers had been thoroughly dismantled by Lance's Alabama Crimson Tide. The sting of that loss had festered ever since.
Barnett had spent the offseason sharpening his game, waiting for this chance to get revenge.
In the first half, Barnett had been relentless, consistently disrupting Kansas City's backfield.
But Lance was no stationary target.
With a subtle shift, Lance angled his run further outside. His footwork was fluid and precise, forcing Barnett—at 6'3" and 259 pounds—to laboriously adjust.
Barnett struggled to match Lance's agility.
"Just like that?"
Before anyone could celebrate, the Eagles' secondary closed in.
To Lance's right: cornerback Jalen Mills.
To his left: linebacker Mychal Kendricks.
Further ahead in the slot: veteran safety Malcolm Jenkins, an anchor of Philadelphia's defense.
It was a textbook defensive scheme, with all three players converging to contain Lance.
The Eagles hadn't tailored their defense specifically for Lance; they were focused on shutting down Kansas City's entire running game. But the effect was the same—Lance faced a formidable wall.
The rookie was in a familiar situation, eerily reminiscent of the first half: surrounded, with no obvious escape.
This was the beauty of football.
Even against a seemingly impenetrable defense, the challenge lay in finding a way out—improvising under pressure, capitalizing on the smallest openings, and turning obstacles into opportunities.
Yes, the Eagles had struck first in the second half.
Yes, their defense had been stellar all game.
But Lance wasn't about to back down.
He wasn't just running against Philadelphia's defense anymore—he was running against the narrative that his success was a fluke.
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